


Sowing Seeds

by monardia



Category: The Magnificent Seven (TV)
Genre: Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-24
Updated: 2013-06-24
Packaged: 2017-12-16 00:44:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,206
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/855837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/monardia/pseuds/monardia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nathan's concerned about Ezra.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sowing Seeds

Dressed only in his boots and charcoal colored pin-striped pants, Ezra waited for the sickening ache that extended from his neck to his waist to ease to a more manageable degree.  
This had been the third time his shoulder had popped from its socket and each time the pain was worse and lasted for longer.

Ezra resolutely stopped thinking what the pain would be like if Nathan was unable get his shoulder back.

"Here, drink this. You’re the color of bleached cotton. It won’t help the pain any but it should settle your stomach. It's only mint tea," Nathan added with a grin, when he saw Ezra's reluctance.

Nathan had already removed the bucket into which Ezra had vomited but the night was hot and airless and the sour smell lingered, mixing with the scent of hay and horse and manure which rose from the livery stable below.

Ezra nodded his thanks and took the tin mug, the muscles of his face relaxing as he inhaled the scent of the fresh mint. He blew gently on the steaming liquid while he waited for it to cool sufficiently for him to drink.

"You’ve got to find yourself a reliable mount," scolded Nathan. "That damn livery nag should be shot. If it threw you, it could kill a greenhorn."

It was an oblique compliment to his horsemanship but Ezra had learned to take his compliments where he could find them.

"I’ll tell Yosimite. He warned me he couldn’t speak for the beast when I hired it - he had only taken it on the day before. It belonged to that cowhand who dropped dead in Jerry Waark’s," Ezra prompted, when Nathan looked blank.

"Oh, yeah. I heard ‘bout that. I was out at Heaney’s place. Their youngest had the croup. I heard that Old Man Wheeler’s got some prime horses coming up for sale." 

"I heard that too. But as my pockets are currently to let, I need a run of luck at the poker tables." Ezra took a sip of the tisane. It wasn’t thick and sweet, like the drink Great Aunt Julie used to make for him, but in his mind the scent of mint was forever linked to maiden aunts whose rooms had been crammed full of ornaments and malevolent cats.

"You heard from your ma since she left town?" asked Nathan, one thought leading to another.

"Even my revered mother has grasped that I am unlikely to have recouped my losses so quickly in a town the size of this one."

Ezra didn’t sound bitter about the loss of his salon; he didn’t even sound resigned. Nathan reminded himself that pain quenched anyone’s spirit, but it didn’t stop him from worrying. While Ezra in his normal state could be an irritant more often than not, an Ezra without sass was unnatural. 

And he wasn't exactly proud of how easily Maude Standish had bought him off. Then Daddy always said pride went before a fall. And he'd always prided himself on having integrity.

"It sure is hot," he murmured.

"Indeed it is. A storm might clear the air."

Nathan glanced up sharply but Ezra had obviously meant nothing by it. From the look of him he hadn't been sleeping well. It was never easy, having a dream defered and his had been snatched out from under him by his own ma. That had to smart. 

Nathan mopped his sweating face and poured himself a mug of the mint infusion before moving to sit by one of the open windows - not that it let in much beyond the stink of the midden that was situated behind the livery stable.

In the still air they could hear that the Saturday night revellry was just getting into its stride - three different pianos were playing three different songs, all out of tune, and voices rising and falling. Things would get livelier as the night progressed bcause hands from all the outlying ranches were in town to spend their months' wages.

It's not like you to miss a Saturday night at the tables," said Nathan.

Ezra shrugged, then winced.

Nathan got up to refill Ezra's mug. "Any better?"

"Much. You have a good supply of herbs for your tisanes?"

"Fair. As you can see," Nathan gestured to the rafters above them, "I'm drying as many as I can to see us through the winter. But hunting them out takes time - though Vin helps when he can."

"I doubt there's much Mister Tanner couldn't track. Can the herbs you use be cultivated? In a patch, I mean?" added Ezra, showing a faint spark of interest.

"I reckon. Only I don't have anywhere to try."

"Mr Larabee has land."

Nathan struggled to subdue a grin. "You're goin' to persuade Chris to tend a garden for you?"

"For the good of everyone."

"I want to be around when you try to sell that idea to him. And what will you be doing while all this hard labour's goin' on?"

Ezra opened his eyes wide. "Why, supervising, of course. A fine, tactical mind like mine..."

"Yeah, yeah. I swear you could sell oil to a snake oil salesman if you put your mind to it."

"I believe you might be right. Which is why you should broach the subject with Chris."

"His ranch is too far out to be practical on a day to day basis. But you've given me an idea. There's a strip of land round the church that I could use. Josiah won't mind. And I reckon he'd help. Mint, for instances, needs water. Lots of water. This fall you can come out and help me gather seed heads."

A poor reward for an excellent idea. I would have thought Mister Tanner would be of more use."

"Oh, he will. But if this is to work I'll need everyone to pitch in."

"Then I will most certainly help, if only for the pleasure of watching Mister Larabee picking flowers."

"Try not to rile him till we've collected all we'll need," said Nathan with a grin.

"I make no promises. You must see that it's irresistible," Ezra coaxed, his eyes bright.

"I see that you like livin' dangerously. I should've supported your salon," Nathan added abruptly.

The smile faded from Ezra's eyes. "Don't give it another thought. My mother has a knack for seeing into mens' hearts faster than most preachers. Not to mention preying on any weak spot. Besides, I doubt I would have made a good owner. Far too much responsibility." 

"Yeah, not like guarding townsfolks at all," said Nathan dryly.

Ezra cocked his head. "Are you trying to play me, Mr Jackson?"

Nathan grimaced. "I need more practice."

"Indeed you do. Perhaps you would care to accompany me to my place of work?"

"It sure is hot tonight, even for us Southern boys. I reckon we could both use a trip to the bathhouse before our meal, followed by an evening in your place of work. My treat," Nathan added with haste.

Ezra looked up at that. "Nathan, I don’t need - "

"The company of a friend?"

Ezra studied him for a moment, then nodded, giving a slow, warm smile. "Ah. Now that’s a totally different proposition. I accept with pleasure."


End file.
